head to fear was not that Bernard should fall in love with her daughter,
but that her daughter should fall in love with him. Watering-place life
is notoriously conducive to idleness of mind, and Bernard strolled for
half an hour along the overarched avenue, glancing alternately at these
two insupposable cases.

A few days afterward, late in the evening, Gordon Wright came to his
room at the hotel.

"I have just received a letter from my sister," he said. "I am afraid I
shall have to go away."

"Ah, I 'm sorry for that," said Bernard, who was so well pleased with
the actual that he desired no mutation.

"I mean only for a short time," Gordon explained. "My poor sister writes
from England, telling me that my brother-in-law is suddenly obliged to
go home. She has decided not to remain behind, and they are to sail a
fortnight hence. She wants very much to see me before she goes, and as I
don't know when I shall see her again, I feel as if I ought to join
her immediately and spend the interval with her. That will take about a
fortnight."

"I appreciate the sanctity of family ties and I project myself into
your situation," said Bernard. "On the other hand, I don't envy you a
breathless journey from Baden to Folkestone."

"It 's the coming back that will be breathless," exclaimed Gordon,
smiling.